He Who Looks Outside
by Hillside Dancing On
Summary: In his heart, Kamina stayed stronger than any memory...of the times they laughed together, when they reached for the moon and when they smoldered together. Spoilers, yaoi.


**Title:** He Who Looks Outside  
**Characters:** Kamina x Simon  
**Genre: **Angst, yaoi.  
**Spoilers: **For episode 8 onward.  
**Rating:** NC-17 for graphic makings of the love.

**Disclaimer:** Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann belongs to the fortunate fellows at Gainax. If it belonged to me, Kamina and Simon would go smashing through the wall of subtext and fall on the floor of canon in a big, sexy mess. Credit for the title goes to a quote by Carl Jung.

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Simon had never given any serious thought to what sexual position he liked best, and certainly no one had ever asked.

No, he was still lingering in the stage between being dumbstruck, astonished that they were doing this at all and delirious with happiness…that they were doing this at all. They had crossed the final line, become partners in every sense of the word, and every nuance of the young man he worshipped was his at long last.

How, when he was so blessedly sheltered in not just Kamina's heart but his bed, could he possibly pick and choose mechanics?

But if he had to give an answer…he loved this particular one dearly.

Oh yes, loved it just the way it was now, seated now across the older boy's thighs, hard thighs, with thick cords of muscle tensing against him on each upward thrust. His own skinny legs crooked at the knees and splayed against rough woven sheets. Palms spread against the darkened chest. The impossible feeling of fullness as gravity pulled him smoothly down time and time again onto the substantial length buried within his small body.

When he was perched on Kamina's shoulders, Simon was positive that nothing else could grant him such a sensation of height. Mountaintops, cliff edges, things to scale for the sake of being closer to the sky, paled in comparison to the dreams his brother shared with him, the confidence that made him _so sure_ they would reach the moon itself.

When Kamina lay beneath him like this, it felt as though they were already there.

For the sake of appearances, he wished that he could stop the stem of small moans and gasps that grew behind his pounding heart and traced treacherous paths all the way to his lips, or will away the flush that spread hotly all the way down to his chest. Though he'd recently stopped worrying that Kamina would have a sudden change of heart and call a halt to their "activity" on the grounds of their age gap, Simon would have cared to look a little less fourteen.

Terra cotta eyes sparkled playfully at him in the dark. "Getting tired?"

Simon licked his dry lips, hoping to keep his voice from shaking too much. "No."

The young man chuckled, and Simon wondered if he knew what the small vibration did. Swallowing hard, he lifted his right palm and dealt Kamina's right pectoral a few paltry smacks. "You don't believe me!"

Kamina just stroked his spine, rough fingertips against his sensitized skin making him shiver, and smiled sincerely. "Nah, I do."

And Simon could do nothing but believe that completely. Swallowing hard, he began moving again; a slow, easy pattern of rising and falling, rising and falling accompanied by the slick sounds of the lubricating oil they both wore.

Kamina's eyes never left him, and the lustful weight of that gaze was like a full body caress in itself, drawing over his kissed bruised lips…the gentle slope of his neck…the drill dangling against his chest, slipping a little with the motions of its owner…the small buds of his nipples, worked to full hardness by Kamina's patient tongue and fingers…the smooth, flat little belly…his erection, dripping obscenely with pearlescent lines of precome. The place just beneath, where Kamina could clearly see his own erection sinking in.

"Mmnnn…bro…"

It was building, Simon cursed himself--the pleasure was building too much, too fast. He'd promised himself (not for the first time) that this would be the night he finally outlasted the elder's sexual stamina, that he'd force himself to keep to a slow pace and try staying clear of the panic button. He would do it, he could, but it felt so…and then Kamina's calloused palms were taking a firm hold of his hips.

"Come on, Simon."

The boy whimpered pleadingly. "Bro, don't…"

Surprisingly he didn't, choosing instead to draw small circles on Simon's hipbones with his thumbs, his patience altogether both damnably frustrating and reassuring. But he wanted something, and when Kamina really wanted something, it was like holding back the very shaking of the earth to stop it. He caught the boy's gaze, wine red locking with liquid black as efficiently as a hungry snake snares a mouse, a little digging mouse trembling all over, and licked his lips.

"C'mon, Simon," he repeated. "Let me make your toes curl…if they don't, you can top me next time."

Simon blinked. He realized it wasn't much of a bargaining chip, as Kamina would most likely let him top anyway if he really asked and did it sincerely enough, but the simple manner of the offer and the suggestive velvet his brother spoke it with seared pleasurably into his already hormone addled mind. "Really?"

Kamina nodded.

So he did likewise. "A-alright."

The older boy grinned, pulling Simon up so that only the tip remained inside him, was the only thing remaining inside him for several long, empty seconds that had him about to speak up…when he was guided knowingly downwards into direct contact with his prostate.

Simon wailed. The sparks flew up just as he'd known they would, flashing behind his eyelids while a million tingles stole away any self-control he'd previously possessed. Moving eagerly with Kamina's hands, he no longer cared. The older boy grit his teeth and met each receiving stroke with a powerful surge of his hips, the two of them still moving together, but in search of something greater, more tangible now.

His head was swimming with Technicolor mist, each stroke to his sweet spot a note of raw pleasure that left him scrabbling with short nails at his lover's skin in search of some kind of purchase. When Kamina let go of him and held out his hands, Simon took them gratefully, using the leverage to keep to the fast pace they had set.

When his thighs began to tremble, he knew he didn't have much time. Something other than oncoming orgasm pulled painfully at his heart and filled him with a fervent desire to keep this going, make it last forever in the innocence a child at play wills the sun from setting.

"I can't!" he cried out. "I-I'm gonna..."

Kamina tightened his hands, and just like that became something solid beneath Simon, a pillar of stone promising to hold him up until he decided he was ready to fall. His breathing was now coming short in between a series of feral growls, his motions less measured and more erratic. "Me too. Come on, let's go together."

"Yes! Yes!"

They did not go together, but it was close. Simon came first, with head thrown back and toes curling and crying out his brother's name as he gripped those unbreakable hands with all the strength he possessed. Out on the horizon roaring in his ears, he heard his own name called and felt the heat of Kamina's climax well up inside him. The thrusts didn't end immediately, as they never did, but came to a slow rolling stop at the precise time the last of Simon's strength was giving out. As the boy dropped wearily forwards onto his lover's broad chest, they simultaneously released their death grip on each other's hands, and strong arms wrapped around him.

Feeling boneless, he nuzzled into Kamina's neck like a newborn molepig seeking warmth. The softening member slipped from him in his movements, drawing a muted whimper from his hoarse throat. He felt the elder gently stroking his back, traversing as high up as his neck and all the way down over his buttocks and thighs, but staying clear of overly sensitive areas. His tightly wound muscles soon began to relax under the careful ministrations, and he sighed with drowsy content. How could the hands of the rebel draw blood so easily while still pointing them onward to the future? How did they pilot the Gurren one day and the next bring Simon to ecstasy, or touch him as kindly as they did now?

"Bro?" He raised himself up on his elbows to look his soul brother in the eyes again. "Will you still be here in the morning?"

Kamina blinked more than once, genuinely taken back, but it took more than that to throw him completely, and just like that he was grinning cockily and flicking Simon on the forehead. "Crazy. Of course I will. Who the hell do you think I am?" He raised himself up on his elbows, taking the smaller boy with him, and pointed at something.

"Simon, look out the window."

Obediently he did, surveying the pale brightness of a moon that despite not being completely full, still shed its frosted light onto the clouds that tried to obscure it. Unlike the sun, he'd learned that there was no danger in staring directly into the moon; it made no objections to allowing the eyes of lovers, of dying warriors bleeding out on their backs, fall upon its serene beauty. It seemed to Simon as though the sun burned on without caring or noticing who its light shone down upon, but the moon had always waited patiently through the eons for the human race to resurface.

"Do you remember what I told you about the moon?"

Simon nodded and repeated what his lover had said in the hot spring. "'Kick logic out and do the impossible.' That we'd try and reach the moon someday." Sorting through the memory, he laughed softly. "Did you just look up at it and decide like that that we needed to go there?"

"What?" Kamina jabbed, tossing his head cheekily. "You still don't believe me?"

Simon smiled, bangs falling in his eyes and a faint pain starting to make itself felt in his lower body, his heart so full he didn't know how it was possible to contain it. "No, I still say anything's possible when you say it like that."

"So don't ask dumb questions!" Kamina gathered him up again, pulling him close so that they became one being of gangly limbs and solid muscles and tangled sheets, both laughing without thinking about who might be woken up as a result. "Look, you and I are young; in the grand scheme of things, we've barely set foot out of Jiiha village. We've got a whole mess of work to do, people to meet, a lot more of this--" He spider-walked his fingers down to Simon's behind, making the boy jump and knock his hand away, laughing all over again.

"So as long as that moon is hanging out there at night, ragging on us to come and get it, you can count on me always being here in the morning."

He traced the line of Simon's jawbone, coaxing him up into an eagerly reciprocated kiss which fell on the opposite end of the spectrum from their earlier clash of teeth and tongues and scrabbling hands. This was slower, at once possessive and equal, heavily honeyed with the light of the afterglow…a kiss that said they had all the time in the world.

And after they'd cleaned up somewhat and made their way back between the sheets, and Kamina had thrown an arm around him--yawning like a lion while telling him to get some sleep, they needed to be ready for whatever tomorrow threw at them—Simon cuddled close to his brother's warmth with a smile on his face.

'All the time in the world.'

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"Sleeping on the job, Simon?"

Simon sat up in bed like a hot coal had been pressed against his bare foot, only to find himself face to very-amused-looking-face with Kamina, perched on the edge of the bed dressed in full battle attire. From the window came a dull gray light that heralded the final gap between darkness and dawn. That in itself was not unusual; surely the older boy had woke him up in such a manner at least a dozen times, usually before teasing him about getting none of whatever had been cobbled together for breakfast that day…no, that was not why his eyes suddenly seemed to fill up his head.

It was because Kamina was still lying beside him, still naked, still fast asleep. Frantically, Simon looked from one to the other.

"Two?"

"Wrong!" The cloaked figure barked while throwing out his hand in an exaggerated swipe. "Geeze, I knew I was pretty hot stuff, but lying around with a punk reflection while there's a battle to be fought? That's not the kind of attitude that made team Dai-Gurren known far and wide!"

Simon's heart lurched at the overwhelming sense of familiarity; no imposter could possibly recreate that rise and fall in the rebel's convicted voice, or match the wild glint in his eyes.

Kamina reached across the small space between them, taking the drill from its place against Simon's bare chest and holding it up for the boy to see. "Remember, this was never meant to be just an ornament around your neck or a little piece of metal that brought us together. The bond you and I had, the bond we all had, it was all for something greater! This is your drill, Simon, and only yours! You were the reason I got as far as I did; how can you go farther if you waste time sleeping here?"

"Is it really you?" Simon asked softly, even as the recognition fully dawned over his features. "This isn't a dream…"

"You're right about that, Simon," replied Kamina. "This is a dream…nothing more, nothing less. The question is will you choose to wake up?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, between them. Simon scooted backward just an inch or so, enough to bring him back into contact with the warm, soft, bare skin of the Kamina still laying at rest. He hadn't shown even the slightest sign of awakening; something that stoked up distinct flickers of unease in Simon as his memories came flooding back. The older boy looked so peaceful, so contentedly static that even the gentle rise and fall of his breath could not chase away the images of blood on his smiling face, of rain and mud and being sure of nothing but that no hope remained.

And yet, even as he knew he must, he could not bring himself to grudge this dream brother…not when he himself had cast the mold, filled it with tears, his own creation to answer the crying of his heart.

He turned. Throwing aside the blanket, he rose up out of the bed, standing tall. No sooner had he planted his feet on the ground than he became aware of the change in himself…no, the restoration. The long limbs and soft curves of a boyhood long gone vanished for good, cast aside by the tall young man in the black and red cloak who had fought amongst the stars.

Simon didn't need to overlook himself to realize it, just as he didn't need to look back to see that the sleeping Kamina had also disappeared.

Closing his eyes, he curled his fist around the drill and felt the steel spirals pulse with life as they took on the warmth from his hand, beckoning him back to his place far above this little room with its little bed, back to his comrades…the fight for Nia, for humanity, for the memories of all those who had perished in the name of something greater, Kittan, and Iraak and the twins and…

Kamina, the real Kamina, hopped off the bed and came to stand beside Simon, hands stuffed in his pockets with a casual air that belied the quiet pride in his eyes. "You'd better get going, Simon. Just remember to keep moving forward, always; don't let yourself get distracted by 'what if's" and false memories."

"Yeah," Simon agreed. Because it was true, exactly true, and he only wished it didn't hurt so much to say it. "You're right, bro."

"Besides…" He gestured to the side, Simon's eyes following the wide sweep of his hand back to the window. "It's a beautiful morning."

The milk and slate tones of dawn had faded out, given way as they always would to the first rays of the sun and all the colors it brought…cerulean blue at its highest point, spectrums crossed over into a fresh, fruit pink just below that, with splashes of palest pearl pinks all throughout the palate. And there in the midst of it all, as painfully bright and glorious as it had been the day they'd first broken through the surface, the rising sun itself. Illusion or not, the rays fanned across the dream landscape and gave to the cold earth a very real warmth, spilled through the window into the little room where two young men stood side by side, looking out.

Maybe a person could never be 100% sure what was real and what was not. The touch of skin, a familiar voice, it could all be found in dreams…but Simon felt the sun on his face, Kamina's warmth and scent and breath filling the space at his shoulder (when had he become taller?), and decided that he it didn't matter; he knew this was the real thing. He sighed, taking the air and the moment into his lungs, his blood, and it became a part of him.

"Gotta go. It's time."

"Yeah. This time, though, it's really good-bye. Get going, soul brother!"

Simon gave him a subtle smile, dry-eyed, never wavering in his resolve. Deep inside him, though, something childlike was crumbling. 'Good-bye, bro. I love you, love you so much, I always did...good-bye, good-bye…."

"It's not good-bye…" He pointed with his thumb at a space between his ribs. "You're always here."

"Yeah!" Kamina smiled one last time.

It was almost enough to make him stay.

He turned away without looking back. With distant voices thundering in his head, he headed out into the morning.

END

_Author's Note: Alrighty, this started a while ago as a plotbunny/request from a dear friend. The result is this. I tried not to rely too heavily on Simon's actual reunion with Kamina, because frankly nothing can ever compare. So it's a surreal, smutty thing with a weird opening line._

I still rather like it. I hope you do too.


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